


The Opposite of Sorrow

by nightwalker



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Platonic Cuddling, Shiro (Voltron) Needs a Hug, Team Bonding, Team Voltron Family, Team as Family, like literally - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 17:04:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12611276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightwalker/pseuds/nightwalker
Summary: Shiro takes a hit from a druid spell that causes its victims to just quietly give up and die. Fortunately he's got six good reasons to keep fighting.





	The Opposite of Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HumanTrampoline](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HumanTrampoline/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Humantrampoline85!

Red had barely settled into her place in the hangar before Keith had flung himself out of his seat and barreled down the ramp. His boots clanged against the metal like thunder and some superstitious corner of his mind that he usually kept under better control was cringing from the noise.

He heard Allura's voice on the comms but he blocked it out, blocked out everything but the fastest route to the Black Lion, who had just staggered to her feet after a rough landing. He could hear the other paladins now, their voices clearer than Allura's, closer and sharpened by the paladin bond. He could hear Hunk clambering down from his lion, Pidge's steady stream of life support stats, the sharp sound of Lance's breath just a few steps behind him. But mostly he was aware of the silence that rang where Shiro's voice should be.

“Let me in,” he ordered, but Black didn't move. Keith grit his teeth and pulled the words up from somewhere in his chest, the way he did sometimes in battle when he needed the others to trust him on something crazy. “Let us in there, he needs our help!”

Black rumbled, a low, worried sound that Keith could feel in his bones. There was a long pause where that seemed to be her only response, but just as Keith reached her she lowered the ramp.

Keith hit it running, heard the thud of Lance's boots hitting the ramp at almost the same moment. “Shiro!” He gripped the edge of the entrance and hauled himself inside, knees almost weak when he saw Shiro sitting upright at Black's controls. “Oh, thank god. You scared the hell out of us!”

Shiro turned his head slightly, not quite far enough to face them. The interior lights hit the visor of his helmet at an angle that made it impossible to see his face.

“Shiro?” Lance asked, uncharacteristically hesitant. “Everything okay?”

Keith crossed the cockpit to Shiro's side, laid a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. Are you hurt?” Black had taken a hard hit from one of the druid's attacks, purple lightning dancing over her hull for several long moments while Shiro's pained cry echoed in their ears. But it had faded after only a few seconds and Shiro had been on the comms assuring them he was fine. Black had rejoined the fight almost instantly and Shiro had led them through the rest of the battle without any sign of injury or distress.

It was after the battle that Keith had noticed something was wrong. Shiro hadn't immediately asked for a roll call to make sure the others were all right, he hadn't hushed (or joined in on) Hunk and Lance's post-battle bullshitting, and he hadn't given the orders to fall back to the castle now that it was safe to do so. Instead there had been only silence from the Black Lion and Shiro had only answered them in single word responses when they prompted him.

Shiro turned back to look out the viewscreen, his movements lethargic, almost boneless, and Keith's grip tightened on his shoulder.

“Get Coran,” Keith said over his shoulder, and Lance immediately fell back a few steps, his voice dropping to a murmur as he asked Coran to prep the medbay. “Shiro, we're a little worried about you. Can you take off your helmet for me?”

It took a second or two, as if Shiro had to process the request before he could move, but he lifted his arms and removed his helmet. He didn't lower his arms so much they just went limp and fell into his lap, the helmet dropping from his fingers to bounce on the floor and roll under the console. He still wasn't looking at Keith, just staring ahead, eyes frighteningly blank.

“Can you walk?” Keith cupped the side of Shiro's head, urged him to look up so Keith could see his eyes, check him for a concussion or head injury. There was no blood, no swelling, no injury at all that Keith could see. His pupils looked fine but his eyes were glazed as if he were looking straight through Keith. Or didn't see him at all. “Shiro, I need you on your feet. _Now._ ”

A tremor passed through Shiro's body and he blinked, his eyes focusing on Keith's face for a moment. “Keith?” he asked and his voice was thick, but aware.

“I need you to stand up,” Keith said again. “Can you walk? We need to go to the medbay.”

Shiro blinked at him again, slow and deliberate. “Is someone hurt?”

“Yes,” Keith said, because it was true, even if not in the way Shiro meant. “Yes, someone's hurt and you need to come to the medbay with me right now. Stand up.”

One of Shiro's hands fumbled for his and Keith grasped it, more than halfway hauling Shiro out of his seat. Shiro managed to stand, but his knees buckled before Keith could get a good grip on him and he nearly fell, but Lance was there, wedging his shoulder against Shiro's side and dragging Shiro's left arm over his shoulder. “Hey, boss,” Lance said, flashing Shiro a toothy smile. “Coran's going to meet us downstairs.”

Keith nodded as he pulled Shiro's metal arm over his shoulders. He and Lance had carried Shiro's weight like this once before, the night they broke him out of the Garrison and found the Blue lion, they could carry him again.

Shiro seemed to have the idea of walking more or less under control, putting one foot in front of the other while Keith and Lance kept him from staggering into a wall or falling over face-first onto the ramp. Coran and Allura were waiting for them at the bottom with Hunk and Pidge, and Allura jumped forward to take Shiro's waist, holding him up so effortlessly that Keith couldn't help but shoot a somewhat rueful glance and Lance, who was rolling his shoulder and mouthing “ow” back at him.

“Over here,” Coran said. He had a scanner in one hand and had hauled up one of the hoverbeds from the medbay. Pidge was perched nearby eyes glued to a console filled with Altean text that presumably meant something to her.

“He doesn't look hurt,” Keith said, following Allura as she guided Shiro toward the bed. “I don't see any injuries and he's not bleeding.”

“He did get zapped pretty hard though,” Pidge said. “Druid magic of some kind.”

“Did he?” Coran asked. He held the scanner over Shiro as Allura helped lay him down. “Unresponsive, you said?”

“He responded to Keith,” Lance said. He stood at the foot of the bed, the fingers of one hand curled absently around some piece of equipment that wasn't currently being used. “He stood up when Keith asked him to, and he even asked if anyone was hurt.”

“That was the only real reaction I got out of him, though.” Keith curled his hands into fists at his sides and made himself exhale slowly. “It was like he was fighting through a haze just to talk to me. Like he was falling asleep or something.”

Coran made a noncommittal sound. “All right, Shiro, my boy. Can you hear me?”

All four paladins and Allura leaned in slightly, watching for any reaction on Shiro's part. But he didn't move at all, eyes unfocused and body limp on the bed.

“Coran,” Allura said, but Coran waved her off and she stepped back, biting her lip.

“Oh no!” Coran yelled so suddenly that Hunk and Lance both jumped. “Shiro, we're under attack!” He leaned in close and locked eyes with Shiro. “The other paladins are in danger, I need you to wake up!”

Shiro made a sound low in his throat, a groan of protest that Keith could barely hear, and slowly shook his head, his hands fumbling at the side of the bed. “Where?” he asked and his voice was thick in his throat, like he was pushing the words out through sheer will.

Coran gestured sharply at Keith and he stepped forward. “Tell him you're all right,” Coran said in a low voice that didn't carry beyond the two of them. “Tell him you won the battle.”

Keith bit back a frown. “Shiro, it's okay, we're all fine.” He caught one of Shiro's hands, still fumbling at the bed railing, and clasped it in his own. “Hey, it's all over. We won. Everyone's safe.”

There was a long moment where Shiro just stared at him, chest heaving a little. Then he shook himself as if coming out of a daze. “We won?”

“We did. The Galra are long gone.”

Shiro turned his head, eyes sharp for a moment as he picked out each paladin in turn. “You guys did good today,” he said. “I'm really proud of all of you.”

Coran nudged Keith out of the way and leaned in close to catch Shiro's gaze. “I need you to listen to me very carefully,” he said. “You were struck by a druid spell and it's affecting your ability to think.”

“The sorrowing,” Allura said, voice hard. “I have seen it before, though rarely. It demands a heavy price from the sorceress who casts it.”

“The sorrowing?” Lance echoed. “So... it's making Shiro sad?”

“Tired,” Shiro said, laying his head back down. His hand, which had gripped Keith's tightly for just a few moments, started to go slack again. “Like a weight on me. Smothering.”

“It won't kill you unless you want it to,” Coran said flatly. “Do you understand, Shiro? There is an end to this spell and all you have to do is fight for a brief while for all of this to pass without any lasting effect.”

“I am so tired of fighting,” Shiro said. His hand was limp in Keith's, but Keith didn't let go.

“Tough shit,” Keith said. He gripped Shiro's hand tight enough that Shiro made a token sound of protest. “Listen to me, I let that idiot-” he jabbed his thumb at Lance, who obliged him with an indignant shout. “-fly me through an unknown wormhole to the far side of the universe just so I wouldn't lose you again. If you think I'm going to let you quit over some cheap magic trick-” Keith bit off whatever was crowding its way out of his throat, the words too hot and angry now to trust himself with them. “Coran says you can fight this, so you're going to fight. You hear me?”

Shiro laughed once, tired and breathless, but real. “Yes, sir.” He squeezed Keith's hand for a moment, more strength in his grip than there had been. “Help me up. I need to stay awake.”

“Good man.” Coran slapped him heartily on the back, almost knocking Shiro over. “All right, Paladins. No need for such long faces, he'll be all right. The spell's a nasty one, I'll admit it, but I don't see any reason why we can't get him through it.”

“What do we need to do?” Hunk asked. He had one hand on Lance's shoulder and he offered Shiro a reassuring smile when the older man managed to sit up without Keith's help. “We can help, right? I could make you some of that coffee substitute that makes Lance throw up.”

Shiro grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I'm gonna pass, buddy. But thanks.”

“Seriously, though, what can we do?” Lance asked. “You said you'd seen this before, right?”

Allura hummed. “During the war, the spell was used against high ranking military officers and the Paladins of Voltron. Not often, as I said it takes a heavy toll on the caster, but often enough to know what to do. You're beginning to feel better already, aren't you, Shiro?”

“I am, a little. I still feel tired, but it's easier to focus.”

He looked like haggard death, but Keith bit his tongue. Shiro's skin was waxy and he was still breathing heavily, like just being conscious was taking all of his energy, but his eyes were clearer and more focused than they had been since before the mission started.

Allura placed her hands over both of theirs and gripped them both tightly. “It is because your friends are here for you. The best way to combat the spell is with reminders of love and happier times.” She shifted her gaze to the other paladins. “The spell enhances feelings of depression, grief, or sorrow. It creates a sense of hopelessness and weariness. But it does fade,” she said gently, rubbing her thumb over the back of Shiro's hand. “You just need to hang on for a bit and the worst of it will pass.”

Shiro gave her a tired smile that looked less reassuring than it could have. “I made it through two semesters of Professor Shaban's history of combat lectures, I can handle a little weariness.”

“Excellent.” Allura squeezed their hands together again, hard enough that Keith and Shiro both winced. “Paladins! He must not be left alone until the spell has run its course. You are cleared from training and all other responsibilities for the time being. Coran and I will handle the running of the ship. If a situation requiring Voltron arises, we will re-evaluate our course of action then. Hopefully,” she added, “Shiro will recover long before we encounter any difficulties.”

She sounded confident, but there was shadow in her eyes that Keith didn't like, and she kept glancing at Coran, as if for guidance. Or comfort, maybe, Keith wasn't very good at reading her most of the time. But there was definitely more to the spell than she had told them.

“Come on then,” Coran said. “Let's take this paladin bonding party somewhere a little more comfortable.”

“Oh, hey, a bonding party. Keith's favorite.” Lance bounced on his toes and offered Keith a shit-eating grin from the foot of the bed.

“I'll bond you,” Keith said, letting just a little heat into his voice. He rolled his eyes at Shiro as he helped his friend slowly to his feet. “You cradle a guy in your arms _one time_ and he thinks he knows how you like to bond.”

Lance sputtered with laughter, cheeks pink.

“That's why I don't bond until at least the third date,” Shiro said, and Pidge and Hunk burst out laughing. It was mostly nerves, and tinged with relief, but it was genuine.

“Does that mean Keith owes me two more cuddling – I mean, cradling sessions?” Lance's cheeks were still pink, but his grin was easy and he didn't seem terrible embarrassed. Keith kind of envied that, to be honest. He wasn't good at teasing. Or embarrassment in general. “I'm not a cheap date, I'll have you know.”

“There is absolutely nothing about you that would have led me to believe you were,” Keith said, embarrassed into honesty. He winced a little, because that could sound bad, but Lance seemed to take it more or less as the compliment he'd meant it to be.

“Hear that, boss?” Lance asked, coming around to sling Shiro's metal arm over his shoulder and once again take some of his weight off Keith. “Kogane thinks I'm worth it.”

“I'm pretty sure that's not what I said,” Keith objected.

Shiro huffed an amused laugh and lifted his arm long enough to ruffle Lance's hair. “You definitely are.”

“High maintenance,” Pidge said under her breath.

“Could have told you that months ago,” Hunk said. “All right, let's get this bonding party started! To the common room!”

Shiro's steps started off steady and he carried most of his own weight as they made their way out of the hangar, but it was a temporary reprieve and he was beginning to falter again by the time they made it to the common room. They managed to lower him down to the couch relatively gracefully, and then Coran was there, draping Shiro in the biggest, fluffiest, pinkest blanket Keith had ever seen. It shimmered a little under the lights.

Allura leaned in and ran her fingers through the silvered streak in Shiro's hair. “I have to return to the bridge, but I know you're in good hands here. I'll see you soon.”

He managed a smile, but it faded as soon as she stepped away.

“All right, Coran, what do we do?” Pidge was hovering behind the couch, her hands hovering in the air, looking like she wanted to touch Shiro but was afraid to.

“Hunk, get some juice and simple food, anything you know for a fact Shiro enjoys. We want to keep his strength up!” Coran twirled the end of his mustache as Hunk rushed out of the room. “Now, I've really only known two effective ways of helping someone fight off the Sorrowing. The first is admittedly, a bit rough. You saw how Shiro reacted when I told him you were in danger?”

Keith didn't bother biting back the frown that caused. “We're not going to constantly scare him, are we?”

“That seems pretty mean,” Lance agreed. “Shiro stresses out about protecting us even when he's _not_ under a spell.”

“It's a last option,” Coran said. We noticed it's effectiveness during the war, when the Galra targeted the Yellow Paladin. He was able to fight through the effects of the spell because the other Paladins' lives were in danger, but he wasn't in a great headspace afterwards, if you follow. The preferred course of treatment is precisely what Allura said: good company and positive thinking. Keep him company, let him know you're here and keep his spirits up. Good friends – and good food,” he added as Hunk came back with a tray and a pitcher of water, “will cure a multitude of ills. And if that all fails, we can always try to pump him full of drugs that counter the spells effects, but that's more of a long term solution.”

“How long term?” Keith asked, a thread of panic starting to curl in his chest. “You said this would run its course.”

“Oh, in Shiro's case, I would say he'll see the other side of this in a relatively short while.”

“Define short,” Lance said.

“Define relatively,” Pidge said.

“More than an hour and less than a week.” Coran planted his hands on his hips. “I would say less than two quintants based on the scans I took, but I've been wrong before. When they got the Yellow Paladin back in the day he was down for nearly a month. That took some wrangling, let me tell you. At one point I had to stand behind him with a siren and pretend we were under attack by a fleet of Galran mercenaries just to keep him from sinking too far into the doldrums. Ah.” He heaved a sigh. “It brings back memories. The rest of the Castle bridge crew requested mental health leave, of course.”

“Of course,” Pidge said dryly. She had climbed onto the back of the couch and was sitting with her leg pressed against Shiro's flesh arm. “So we just keep his spirits up? What's that supposed to do?”

“The Sorrowing makes you very tired,” Coran said. “Very tired and very sad and sometimes the person decides it's easier to just give up and they sort of... die in their sleep.”

Lance flinched back a little, as if Coran had taken a swing at him. “Okay, that's not going to happen to Shiro.”

“It's not.” Keith's lips felt numb. He couldn't help but check on Shiro, whose eyes were going hazy and unfocused again. “We're not going to let him.”

“Is he suffering?” Lance asked suddenly. “I mean-” he stuttered a little as everyone turned to stare at him. “Is this thing making him see stuff? Like, hallucinate or relive things? Cause some of the stuff Shiro's lived through is real nightmare fodder and if he's reliving that-”

Keith stared at him, then swung his gaze back to Shiro, horrified and hating himself for not thinking of it first.

“Oh no,” Coran said, catching on just a second after Keith did. “No, he's not seeing the gladiator pits, or the druids, or any of that. He knows where he is.”

Keith dragged in a deep breath, the sudden surge of sickness in his stomach abating somewhat.

“But it's probably making him remember all of that,” Coran said, instantly squashing what little relief he'd provided. “Or remember what it all felt like, at least.”

“Oh, man,” Hunk said. “For the record, Coran, that is way worse than the doldrums.”

Pidge slid down onto the couch cushions, where she sat cross-legged next to their leader. “Shiro?”

He turned his head just enough to see her. “I'm here, Katie.” He closed his eyes for a minute and took a slow, deep breath. “I didn't give up when I was there, and I'm definitely not going to let them beat me now that I'm free. Don't worry.”

“Well, it's a little late for _that,_ ” she said, but she sounded more or less mollified. “Have I ever tell you about the time Matt broke both his arm and most of his ribs trying to teach our cat to skateboard?”

Shiro smiled, a ghost of his usual grin but better than the alternative. “I wish I could say that any part of that sentence surprised me.”

“Okay, look,” Pidge said. “I'm gonna tell you up front that the cat's name was Pidge Gunderson and I don't want to hear anything about it from any of you.”

Hunk snickered and ducked away from her as she tried to poke him in the ribs. “I cannot believe our resident genius couldn't come up with a better undercover name than her own _cat_.”

“This is exactly what he needs,” Coran said, voice pitched low enough that he doesn't drown out the story Pidge is telling. It seems to involve plywood, her brother, the family cat and a rather steep driveway. “Talk about better times or the future, and keep him in the present. Don't let him dwell too much.”

“Can he sleep?” Lance asked. “Or should we keep him awake?”

“If you can. If he gets irritable or cranky a short nap should be fine, but nothing too long. He needs to be focused on the four of you.” Coran clasped each of them on the shoulder with a proud smile. “You're his team. His family. The paladin bond cannot be underestimated. Make no mistake, it's the four of you who will see him through this, not medicine or magic.”

“The six of us,” Lance said.

Coran's face practically melted. “Well, we are a team, aren't we?”

“We are,” Keith said firmly. “We wouldn't have known what to do without you and Allura. You've already saved his life.”

Coran's mouth wobbled, and before Keith could move yanked them both into a rib-cracking hug that ended up with his face smashed against Coran's chest. “The lions chose particularly well this time around, if I do say so myself,” Coran said. He heaved a deep breath that resulted in Keith nearly losing an eye to the metal button on his jacket. Next to him, Lance was turning pale blue. “All right, I leave him in your hands. Allura and I will be on the bridge, at least until we're safely out of this system.” He released them so suddenly that Keith staggered back a step or two and Lance sucked in air like a vacuum. “Call us if you need anything. Until then, cuddle, talk, happy memories!” He did an about face and marched out of the room, lips pressed tightly together and eyes watering from unshed tears.

Keith rubbed a hand across his face, where the imprint of Coran's buttons was pressed into his cheek. Next to him, Lance had his hands braced on his knees and was gasping for breath.

“Did he say cuddle?” Lance wheezed.

****

He totally said “cuddle”.

Keith wasn’t… he wasn’t uncomfortable, which he personally felt weirdly proud about. This was kind of a personal best for him? He wasn’t exactly known for being physically affectionate. Or even tolerant. Honestly when presented with the instruction to cuddle, he’d frozen up a little bit trying to figure out how it would work. How did people do this all the time without even thinking about it? How did they know what direction to face, or how hard to hold on? Where the hell was he supposed to put his hands?

Hunk made it easier than it might have been by flopping down on the couch next to Shiro and tugging the black paladin’s head down onto his shoulder. “Who wants to hear about the time Lance crashed someone else’s simulator run?” he asked in a tone of voice that said he fully expected that everyone would.

“I’m in,” Keith said, dropping to sit on the floor and using Shiro’s legs as a backrest. “How would that even work? What did you do, trip and fall on the controls while he was trying to land?”

Pidge snorted. “It was blatant sabotage.”

“Blatant and shameless,” Hunk intoned in a deeply disapproving voice. “I, of course, had nothing to do with it.” He flashed Keith and Shiro a smile. “As far as the Garrison was able to prove, anyway.”

“It’s an unsolved mystery,” Pidge said in a sweet, childish voice.

“Oh, whatever,” Lance said. “The jerk was picking on kids half his size, a week’s worth of detention was totally worth it. He’s lucky I didn’t knock his head off.”

“You’d have broken your hand,” Hunk said and Pidge nodded absently. 

Keith hid a grin against Shiro’s knee. It had the air of a well-rehearsed and often-repeated argument. “Let me guess, Lance’s hand-to-hand wasn’t any better back at the Garrison than it is here.”

“I rely largely on my wit and charming nature to defuse hostile situations,” Lance said. He ran a hand through his hair and aimed a toothy grin at Keith. “Unfortunately, Carter Beau-be-wrong wasn’t smart enough to appreciate either.”

Keith vaguely remembered a comms student named Carter Beauregard. He’d had an attitude almost as bad as Keith’s and had been nearly a foot taller and built like a small car. “How many of your bones did he break?”

“Do - Did he just-” Lance sputtered, hands flailing. His voice was outraged indignation but his eyes were laughing. “Shiro! Do you hear this? Keith thinks I couldn’t hold my own in a fight!”

Shiro was still laying back against the couch cushions, bundled under the ridiculously soft blanket and bracketed in by his teammates. He looked… sleepy. But not lost in the haze he’d been in before. He smiled at Lance, and maybe it was how tired he was, or maybe his guard was just down, but the look on his face was pure pride and fondness and affection with no restraint or teasing to disguise it. “That wouldn’t have stopped you from standing up to a bully.”

Lance’s ridiculous flailing stopped abruptly and his cheeks went pink. “Well. I. Darn right it wouldn’t. Lance McClain never backs down from a righteous fight!”

Pidge nodded. “Except that time after Trig class with-”

Lance lunged across Shiro’s lap and slapped a hand over her mouth. “We’ve all heard that story.”

“I haven’t,” Keith said.

“That’s what you get for dropping out, dropout,” Lance said. “Oh jesus, Pidge, what the flipping-” He snatched his hand back and shook it vigorously. “Ew, what are you, a dog?”

“Hey,” Hunk said, while Lance made a show of wiping his palm on one of the couch cushions. “Did you guys know that freshman year Lance had a poster of Shiro on the wall?”

“Please tell me it wasn’t over the bed,” Shiro said and Keith laughed so hard he actually clapped a hand over his own mouth in surprise. “I’m not joking, please someone tell me that.”

Hunk shook his head regretfully. 

Lance scowled. “It was over my desk, and Hunk is now my least favorite paladin.”

“We all know that’s not true,” Hunk said. “And you absolutely gazed at it adoringly and talked about how you couldn’t wait to take one of Commander Shirogane’s lectures and-”

“I didn’t even know him then!” Lance yelled. “And anyway, I notice you aren’t volunteering any information about how you had a sexual awakening over the tech for the Kerberos shuttle when it was unveiled for the first time.”

“That’s not exactly-”

“He went on for twenty minutes about the flawlessness of the design and then declared his intentions to have its babies,” Lance told Shiro. He flopped back against the cushions and leaned into Shiro’s metal arm as he dragged part of the blanket over his lap. “You were inside Hunk’s baby mama.”

Shiro grinned. “Oh wow, I feel like I should be reporting myself to human resources.”

“Oh it’ll get worse,” Pidge said. “I personally witnessed at least seven of Lance’s Garrison hookups, four lab explosions and the time Lance made Professor Iverson so angry he almost wet himself, and that’s not even getting into the Matt stuff. Shiro, did he ever tell you how come he had to shave his head senior year?”

Shiro blinked a little, turned his head to face her. “He said he thought it made him look older.”

“And you believed him,” Pidge said, shaking her head. “Disgraceful. Okay, look, it started with a box of illegal fifty-year-old fireworks called _The Pirouetting Dragon_ -”

Keith’s not sure exactly how much time passes, but eventually Pidge runs out of stories involving her brother - a guy Keith briefly knew as a polite, kind of quiet science nerd but who was apparently the biggest human disaster to walk the face of the earth. “Anyway, after I got back onto campus under the name Pidge Gunderson, I started letting the air out of the Garrison Director’s car tires every night. All four of them. Every day. For four and a half months.”

“Why did you stop?” Keith asked.

“He bought a hover car instead. No tires,” Pidge said with a sigh. “So I reprogrammed the self-driving feature to take him to the landfill every time he tried to go home.”

“You’re a menace,” Lance said approvingly and Keith nodded his agreement. “Shiro, you okay?”

Shiro yawned. “Actually, is there any more of that soup?”

“Yeah, there's more in the kitchen,” Hunk said. “Here - Pidge get off me, I’ll go get some more. And maybe some tea or hot cocoa if anyone wants some? Lance, give me a hand.”

He hauled his two teammates up off the couch, skipping awkwardly around Keith, still using Shiro’s legs as a backrest. They groused at him, Lance shivering elaborately as he was hauled out from under Shiro’s blanket, but they went without a fight.

Keith waited until they were too far away to hear him. “Shiro, that soup tastes like boiled sweatsocks.”

Shiro grinned at him. At some point he’d wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and over his head like a hood, so now he was framed by bright pink fuzziness. “Yeah, but it makes Hunk feel better to help. Also it’s so terrible it wakes me up a little.”

“I could just punch you when you started to doze off,” Keith said. “It’d probably be less painful.”

“Thanks. We’ll save that for an emergency,” Shiro said. “How are you doing down there? You’ve been kind of quiet.”

Keith shrugged and shifted around a little until he could hook his arms on Shiro’s knees. He rested his chin on them and looked up at him. “I’m not really a story teller.”

“You have a couple good ones in there. I know, I’ve heard them. If you wanted to share, I think the others would enjoy hearing them.”

“Maybe.” Keith was uncertain what stories he had that Shiro could consider interesting, less sure he wanted to share them with the group like this, while they were all just… here and looking at him, and even less convinced that they’d care to listen if he did. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Keith.” Shiro hooked two fingers under Keith’s chin and tapped until Keith looked up and met his eyes. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

“You could have died,” Keith said and the words come out hot and angry despite himself. “None of us even knew anything was wrong until it was almost too late and if Coran hadn’t been here-”

“Coran was here. And he’ll be here next time and the time after that.” Shiro moved his hand to cup the back of Keith’s neck. “That’s what a team does, you know. They stick around.”

Keith shook his head. “That’s not a choice we really get to make, is it?”

“Of course it is,” Shiro said. “There’s a difference between abandoning someone and dying, Keith, you know that.”

Maybe. Maybe not. To the one getting left behind Keith wasn’t sure there was much difference. And the fact was that they did want to leave. Pidge had already tried once and Hunk and Lance missed Earth and their families with a ferocity Keith could practically taste if he got too close. 

He didn’t know what Shiro wanted anymore. He’d been too afraid to ask. He’s already half convinced that the only thing keeping Shiro here is Keith himself and he isn’t sure he could swallow the guilt of that. 

Even if they didn’t leave on their own there was always another battle, another trap, another spell. Or any of a thousand little dangers lying in wait through an unfamiliar and unsympathetic universe.

Shiro’s metal hand cupped the back of his head, the fingers stroking gently at the back of his neck. “Keith, I’m not going to die. I’m not going to leave you again. Not over this. I promise.”

Keith jerked back beyond Shiro’s reach. “You can’t promise that!”

“Course I can,” Shiro said. He let his hand drop in his lap instead of reaching for Keith again, but he didn’t pull it back under the blanket, either. “You heard Coran. It won’t kill me unless I let it. Maybe one day the choice will be taken out of my hands, but that day isn’t today. I may be tired, Keith, but I’m not done fighting yet. And I will never be ready to leave you. Any of you.”

 _I’m not ready to lose you again._ Keith curled his hands into fists and wished, for just a second, that he was the sort of person who could just talk about things like that. Instead he just shook his head and stood, scrubbing his hands over his face.

Shiro grabbed a fistful of his shirt and dragged him down onto the couch so hard that all Keith could manage to do was not land face first on Shiro’s metal arm. He flailed a little ungracefully. “What the he-”

Shiro flipped the pink blanket over his head.

It was _exactly_ as soft and fluffy as it had looked.

“Stop thinking. Everyone’s okay. We’re going to stay this way as long as we can.” Shiro slumped back against the pillows with a heavy sigh. “Well, aside from the soup, but I made my own bed and I’ll lay in it.”

“Please don’t lay in the soup,” Keith said. “It tastes bad enough.”

Shiro snorted and Keith snickered and he felt his shoulders loosen, some of the tension ease out of his spine. Nothing was really different. Nothing was really better. They were still just a handful of people against an entire empire, but Keith could let it go for one night. 

None of them were leaving tonight. They’d be all right.

Pidge came back carrying a tray nearly as big as her loaded with five huge mugs, while Hunk carried a second tray piled high with sandwiches and what looked like cookies. Lance trailed after them, munching on a cookie. 

“Okay, Shiro, that soup was foul, what the hell, dude.” Pidge set the tray down without spilling more than a few drops here and there. “Hunk made tea instead. Seriously. What is wrong with your mouth?”

Everything got noisy again for a few minutes and somehow Keith ended up with a mug of tea in one hand, half of a sandwich in the other and Lance’s head in his lap. “Hey.”

“You took my spot,” Lance said. “Deal with it. Hey, hand me a cookie.”

Keith stared at Shiro, intending to… honestly, he’s not sure what he thought Shiro was going to do about it. But Shiro’s eyes were nearly shut, his mouth curled in a barely-there smile.

He looked better, Keith thought. Not as pale. And his eyes weren’t so distant, even half-asleep.

He leaned into Shiro’s side until he could catch his eye. “You can rest a little, if you want. We’ll keep an eye on you.”

Shiro wrapped his arm around Keith’s shoulder and pulled him in a little closer. “I know you will.”


End file.
